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User blog:WayfinderOwl/Boom, Baby: The Milo Lopez Experience - Introduction
On the very day I turned seventeen, I got out of Happy Volts. No longer a patient, I was allowed to shave for the first time. Left a small patch of beard on my chin—a soul patch, and realized it was the facial hairdo for me. And, damn, it looked good. I’d be fighting off the chicks outside. How did I get in Happy Volts? Well, sit back, and I’ll fill ya’ in. Got abandoned as a baby. Adopted by a shallow socialite desperate for kids, so she don’t die alone. Learned to walk. Started messing that apartment she loved. (It happens.) Stole stuff. Tagged stuff. Smashed stuff. Learned to break into cars. Blew up toasters. Blenders. Any appliance would do. (And it was awesome.) Turned thirteen. Wanted to go to the Libertonian. Mom said no. (Bitch.) Took her car for a joyride. Cruised through the ‘hood. Blew up her car in the garage, and found my life’s purpose. Got in deep shit. (I wasn’t sorry.) Mom went cra-zy. I got told I was going to camp. Dumped in Bullworth. Learned about flammable chemicals in chemistry. Blew up a car in auto shop. (Got a taste for it.) Blew up another car, then another. Made a friend – he was brains, I just did shit because I felt like it. Exploded my project all over the chemistry lab. Did it again for fun. Blew my project up for a third time. In the words of my childhood hero; “Ain’t I a stinker?” Practically lived in detention. Discovered Blue Skies. Met the gang. Blew up a car. Won the townie’s respect. Coined the phrase “boom, baby.” Cut one in the library. (Not important, I just like mentioning it.) Moved my talents on across the town. Got caught rigging a prep's car up to go boom. Sent to Crabblesnitch. (Big-nosed asshole.) Got detention. (Scrubbing the caf kitchen? What the hell?) Set my sights on Crabblesnitch’s car. Got sloppy. Took out all the cars in the parking lot at once. (Boom, baby!) Mom gave up on me. (Bitch.) Thrown in Happy Volts. (Party over, bro.) Met a crazy chick. Hit on her. (Biggest mistake ever.) Did my time. Caught up? Good. I checked myself out in the cracked dirty mirror, as I cut my hair with a pair of scissors. Damn, I looked good. If I was a chick, I’d date me. Messy but a little spiky. Perfect. On the bed was a small pile of clothes. Clint had come in two weeks ago disguised, pretending to be my dad, to deliver some clothes. Stupid orderlies are too dumb to see he is white, and I’m not. Idiots. Just the essentials, to walk out of this dump in style. Brown boots. Skinny jeans, ripped in neat lines down the legs. Black checked t-shirt, new from Final Cut. Orange shirt, not meant to be buttoned up. Leather cuff, to top it all off. I donned my new garb, glad to wear something that wasn’t scrubs and paper booties. One last look in the mirror; smokin’ hot. This would be my year, I told myself. All the chicks would be after me. I’d pulled in here, granted she was crazy, but I am hard to resist. An orderly came in to escort me out. I strutted behind him, chin up, chest out. Glad to breath clean air, as I left the building. The gates opened, and the gang was waiting for me. Clint, big and broad built, like a gorilla. Edgar, my brother from another mother—well, for all we knew. My biological mother didn’t exactly leave a nametag. Otto, he got out a week before I did. Zoe, who I honestly missed. All those nights we stayed up late, smashing shit up at Spencer Shipping Warehouse; hell, yeah, I missed it. “I’m back, bros,” I said, wailing on an air guitar. I offered a wink to Zoe. “And babe.” She gave me a playful punch to the shoulder. “Don’t call me babe, you idiot.” Edgar gave me a fist bump. “We got a party set up—woah!” A beam of purple light sliced across the sky, as if it were aiming right for us. Came to a stop a few feet away. A man stepped out. He was like no one I had ever seen. Muscular. Wearing some kind of metallic blue space suit. Tight fitting to the shape of his body. Black hair. His eyes—I couldn’t see them. Shielded by purple sunglasses, that obscured the color of them. He had this intimidating air about him, even Clint would think twice before messing with him. And Clint never thought much about anything. The guy with the purple glasses looked to me. “You Milo Lopez?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Get in the light,” he commanded. Shrugging, I did as I was told. “You lot, too. Get in.” the guy with the purple glasses said, pointing at the others. “I don’t know…” Otto muttered, hesitantly. “Just get in the light, will you?” I told them. Everything started to fade a little bit, as I was lifted three feet off the ground. All I could see was the stranger. “Hang in there kid, I’ll find you,” he said. “What is your name?” I asked. “Johnny Gat.” And that was the last I saw of Bullworth, at least for a little while. Category:Blog posts Category:WayfinderOwl's Fanfiction